Page 68 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

What could he do to prove that he had changed? Ainsley said it would just take time. Lincoln Cash, in his Bible study, had said the same. People needed to see that Harrison had changed. Which meant things like forgiveness and repairing relationships and all kinds of things to show he wasn’t the same man as before. But unless he talked with her, she’d never know. Unless she’d talked with her father and Derek mentioned something.

Harrison hadn’t wanted to bother Derek too much, but the man had been persistent, and had contacted him several times, checking up to make sure Harrison was reading his Bible, connecting with Christians. He was, and each day he read the Bible he was sinking into deeper wonder about the promises of God. God, his Heavenly Father, who promised to never leave or forsake him. What a contrast to his own father who, when Harrison had tried to reach out last weekend, had ignored his call, and hadn’t even replied to his text. He knew his dad had seen it too, because it had been marked as Read. His heart panged, but he’d also found that verse that said as far as it depended on him to live at peace with others, so he was leaving his dad up to God. Heaven knew that his dad needed God too. Which was an excellent reminder…

“Hey God,” he closed his eyes. “I know that I’m new at all this stuff, but I want to trust You for my dad’s salvation. I know I’m a long way short of perfect, but that’s okay because You’re perfect. And if You can raise the dead, and if You can change my heart, then You can change his too.” His eyes watered. “And I wanted to say thank You for my salvation. Thank You for giving me a new start. And I’d really like it if You could somehow help Cassie see that I’m not the same man I used to be. And wherever she is today, please bless her. And bless my dad. And bless Derek and Leonie. And Ainsley. And Cassie. Amen.”

Cassie.

He drew out the brooch that his grandmother had given him. Studied the profile, the one so similar to that photo of Cassie from the wedding. With her hair all fancy, it could be the same person, the same graceful line of neck, jaw and nose. She might be tough, but there was a gracefulness she possessed too. She wasn’t hard, not like some women he’d met. And the fact God was working in her heart proved it even more so.

“Lord, bless her.”

His phone buzzed on the table next to his script. A reminder. Thirty minutes until show time. He needed to get into his Mountie uniform then get ready for hair and makeup, something that could be done on site because it just involved a quick brush and a minute applying what he called face paint. He thanked God for the hundredth time he wasn’t a woman and had to spend hours in a chair. His lips twisted. Just another discrepancy between men and women on this show.

A knock came at the door. Maxine, most likely, here to remind him.

He opened it, then nearly fell backwards. “Um, hi.”

Cassie’s smile was tentative. “Hi. I’m really sorry for intruding like this, but I’ve wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Um.” He winced. “I hate to say this, but I’m kind of in a rush. I start shooting at two.”

Her nose wrinkled. “How long will that go for?”

“A few hours, probably.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Okay.”

It clearly wasn’t okay. “We can talk after. I’d love to talk to you too. And I promise, I won’t make it weird or anything—or at least I’ll try not to make it weird, but with me there are no guarantees.”

She half-smiled. “Okay. I need to give Mal my answer by five. I just wanted to talk to you about it first.”

“Your answer?” His heart thumped. “Is this about the role? Are you gonna do it?”

“I thought it sounded interesting, although I was sad to hear about Brenda.” She eyed him. “Mal mentioned that you encouraged her to report the domestic violence.”

He nodded. “My dad used to beat my mom. And me.”

Her breath hitched. “Oh, Harrison.”

He half-shrugged. “That’s why I couldn’t watch another woman face that. Not like my mom did.” He shook his head. “I should’ve stood up for her more.”

“But you must’ve been young. Just a boy.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I still regret not standing up for her more.”

Her eyes were soft, her compassion palpable. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

His lips tweaked. “But I don’t want to live in the past. I’ve learned a lot in recent days about letting go and letting God have His way.”

“Me too,” she murmured, gaze still fixed on him.

His heart flickered. Did that mean she might see him as part of her future? Why else would she have asked that question before?

He cleared his throat. “So, does this mean you’ll consider the role?”

Her smile twisted. “I have to confess that I’ve never once dreamed of being an actor, and I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t act my way out of a paper bag, but it does sound like an interesting opportunity.”

“Wait—did you just say you’ve never once dreamed about being an actor?”

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